The Cost of Publicity
by lemmesay
Summary: Jack had never liked to pay attention. kind of AU, but you'll get the idea. Sorry for the mistakes, it's unbetaed and I'm Czech.


**The Cost of Publicity**

'Will it ever stop, Jack?' Gwen turned her eyes from the monitor screen and frowned at her boss who was doing his best ignoring her laments. He was pretending he's seriously interested in a strictly classified file in his hands, even though he was holding it upside down. 'It's pathetic, you know. All the people outside really do believe all that stuff. _That he's dead_.' The last three words came out of her mouth more as a whisper.

'And they are also blocking the invisible lift, which could bring us some trouble, especially now, when the rift activity is the highest I've ever seen it," Tosh nodded in agreement and pointed at her screen showing some data in big red numbers.

'Are you even listening, Jack?" Gwen was obviously getting impatient and Jack thought that maybe it was time to rise to the occasion and actually pay attention. He had never liked to pay attention. Especially not to Gwen. Especially not to Gwen moaning about trouble. Especially not to Gwen moaning about the trouble that he's_ personally_ caused. Ouch. No real boss would ever be happy with that. And Jack was one hell of a boss.

'Actually," Owen's head popped out of the autopsy room, 'I think it's funny. And for once, it has nothing to do with Weevils or pterodactyls-'

'Oi! Leave Myfanwy out of this, will ya!" Ianto walked to the room with a mug of a delicious coffee so fresh it made Jack's nasal hair dance in an extasy.

'I was just trying to say," Owen continued, 'that it's nice that we get to deal with something normal for a change. These people might be mental, but at least they're not possessed by the aliens.' They all looked at the security camera monitor (even Jack raised his head as covertly as he could). Whole Roald Dahl Plass was overcrowded with people. People crying. People mourning. People putting wreaths made of cypresses and chrysanthemums and white candles all over the Water Tower.

'Well, I wouldn't say it's _so_ funny, sir – not that I don't feel flattered and honoured, of course,' Jack looked at Ianto and felt an incredible urge to wet-kiss that smug expression out of his impish Welsh face, 'but it really drags attention to The Hub, I'm afraid. Few more candles and petitions demanding my resurrection and we are Retcon-ing the whole city. Which means _a lot_ of overtimes; there will be no time to spare,' Ianto sent a meaningful look in Jack's direction, driving the captain crazy.

'No, no, no, no, _never_, you don't, Jack!' Gwen cried out in a harsh voice so high that Jack skipped in his chair. "I am not working overtime, is that clear? I don't care about all those crazy people finding Ianto's dead body and trying to resuscitate it by passionate kisses-'

'Oi!' Ianto protested immediately.

'And – don't interrupt me, Ianto, thank you very much – I'd be very grateful for at least two days off so I can spend more time with Rhys, who doesn't even remember how I look like because we haven't seen each other for bloody ages! So don't count on me following people around and changing their memories in my personal time!'

Yes. And that was the time when Jack finally decided to stop playing deaf and threw the file over his head.

'Okay, now everybody calm down, will you,' He hoped his voice sounded authoritatively enough, when he stood and crossed his arms over his chest. 'Let me sort this out. First: Tosh, Gwen, stop being hysterical about the people. We are not going to Retcon all of them. That would ruin our supplies anyway –we are only going to Retcon the one person who is responsible for this."

'You mean yourself?' Owen raised his eyebrows, but immediately stopped smirking when he saw the look in Jack's eyes.

'As for you, Ianto,' Jack paused to look at his favourite coffee boy, 'you are going to work on this case overtime with me, since, as you said, there's apparently no time to spare.'

'I'll bring the stopwatch, sir,' Ianto nodded and left the main room, the smug expression once again settled on his face.

'So you do admit that it's your fault, then?' Gwen asked, still angry at Jack for ignoring them for such a long time.

'No! Well, not really... How on bloody Boeshane was I supposed to know?' Jack tried to protest but was interrupted by Owen.

'Well, it was you who said that Torchwood Three needed more publicity, so you gave the funny gay guy with an initial in the middle of his name only a half of the amnesia pill! Now you see what you did. There is your publicity!' he pointed at the camera monitor again.

'Fine!" Jack raised his arms, 'I surrender, you are right. So we'll have to send all of those mourning people away and tell them to never come back otherwise we'd have to shoot them... and as for the initial guy...' Jack took a moment to think, "let's send him to America. He can't possibly cause any more trouble in there. Agreed?'

'Okay with me,' nodded Owen.

'And me,' smiled Tosh and turned back to her computer.

'Lush," answered Gwen coldly as she took her bag and headed for home.

'Okay then, agreed. America it is," Jack sighed with a relief and left the room to find Ianto hoping that all of the oncoming trouble would be of alien origin only.


End file.
